


You made me feel like I was always falling

by weepingnaiad



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, oblivious boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: After their Quinjet crashes on a deserted island -- how cliché can you get? -- Clint Barton demonstrates incredible competence at keeping them alive, adding fuel to Bucky's already considerable frustration around said archer.





	You made me feel like I was always falling

**Author's Note:**

> Super fast and amazing beta by the incomparable [Kangofu_CB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kangofu_CB/pseuds/Kangofu_CB). Thank you so much!
> 
> And I just have to give a heartfelt thank you to everyone at the BDBD for making me feel welcome and inspiring me to interact in fandom again. I _missed_ that. And I have to especially thank the peeps at our Camp Nano writing group who sprinted with me and kept me going when I was sure I'd forgotten how to write.
> 
> It's been a very long time since I posted anything, but it feels so good to start with WinterHawk. I hope y'all enjoy!

"Barton!" Bucky shouts from the safety of the treeline. "What if there're alligators or piranha in the water?"

Clint snorts and then starts laughing. Bucky can tell by the way his shoulders shake; his very fine shoulders which seem wider than before, sporting a hint of sunburn and freckles peppering the skin that Bucky wants to lick.

_Shit! Abort! Abort!_

This is not the time or place to lust after a teammate. Bucky starts to back away just as Clint turns to shoot him a grin. And that view -- slightly crooked smile, sparkling eyes, pecs for miles -- is way too hard on Bucky's restraint. 

"Chill, man, I'm keeping watch," Clint says.

"Can't you do that without dangling above the water?"

"Nah. 'Sides, we're in the Caribbean, pretty sure there aren't any gators around and I know piranha are freshwater predators."

"Um, sure, but," Bucky stammers, hoping Clint can't see the way his cheeks flame. Or if he does see, believes it's a sunburn. Bucky has a serious competence kink and Clint's done nothing but mash that button hard.

"But what?" Clint asks and he's swiveled around, back to the ocean as he perches precariously on the slightly swaying branch jutting out over the water.

Bucky's brain shorts out a bit, torn between the view and real fear that Barton's gonna fall. Which would mean that Bucky would have to brave the water to save his ass because Barton's the only reason he's not already dead on this godforsaken lump of sand in the middle of fucking nowhere.

"But what?" Clint repeats. "Barnes, you getting heat stroke or something?"

"No," he finally answers, the one word drawn out slow and soft, too low for Clint to hear.

"Barnes? C'mon, man, you're starting to freak me out."

But Bucky can't force any words out, they're all stuck in a jumbled up mess, a blockade in his throat. He tries, but Clint's looking like he does, all bright eyes and bedhead, earnest smile, and those biceps. It's all a bit overwhelming so he just turns tail and flees. The legendary Winter Soldier is running away and he can't figure out if he's more terrified of Clint falling or of Clint finding out about the torch he's carrying for him.

The jungle fights him as he pushes through it, the trail he's following not really a trail, more like some monkeys occasionally pass this way. And then Bucky loses even that faint line. Swearing, he stops, takes a deep breath and tries to find the damned path. Fucking palm trees and all the rest of the green shit smothering him! Suddenly there's a monstrous screech from right over his left shoulder, making Bucky jump. He curses and whirls around, gun out and pointed at a small chattering face.

"Shit!" Clint would kill him if he shot a monkey. The thing laughs at him. Or well, it looks like it's laughing before scampering up the tree to join its evil brethren if the cacophony that starts up is any indication.

Bucky sags, drops his head against the trunk of the tree, and quietly swears to himself. He is a city boy, born and bred. As Hydra's puppet he'd been sent a lot of places, but not once was he sent into the jungle or onto a beach. The fuckin' sand gets _everywhere,_ even between the plates on his arm and then everything becomes stiff, movements uncoordinated. He wants a drink that's not coconut milk and wants to breathe air that's not one bit salty or fresh. He wants to leave this island and never look back because this place is quickly becoming the stuff of nightmares.

"Barnes?"

Of course Clint could track him. Clint's a wiz in this hell hole. He immediately took charge when the Quinjet had crashed, getting the emergency beacon to work in the remains of the crash, inventorying their gear, salvaging anything even remotely useful, building a shelter, snaring food, and keeping a fire going twenty-four seven. Bucky'd just followed his orders, doing what he was told until they were pretty well set. With the beacon going the team would find them soon enough.

It's been over three days and Bucky feels like he's going out of his damned _mind._ He'd known that Clint was hot as hell -- he had _eyes_ \-- but the endearingly awkward goofball that was normally Clint Barton was nowhere to be found. Instead Bucky's confronted with a fantasy come to life. Clint has taken to wearing nothing but a pair of cutoff shorts and he's turning this freckled bronze, his hair lightening to a halo of gold which makes his changeable eyes pop. He slings his bow over his shoulder and strides into the jungle, coming back with food that he knows how to field prep and roast. He's graceful and skilled and looks like he was born to live on an island, while Bucky feels like a giant ungainly overdressed lumbering jackass who is unprepared and uncomfortable, jumping at every scritch, howl, or caw.

"Barnes, you okay?" Clint asks from nearby, his approach near silent despite the underbrush.

Bucky groans. "No," he growls, refusing to look up. "Go away."

"Look, man, I'm sorry for scaring you," Clint apologizes. "It never dawned on me that you couldn't swim."

Bucky tilts his head sideways until he can pin Clint with a glare. "I can swim," he corrects. "I pulled Steve out of the Potomac, remember?"

"Um," Clint says, hand going to the back of his neck, which only serves to accentuate his arms.

"But the arm is fucking heavy and sand and salt water aren't great on it." He's trying to keep his tone level and not take all his frustrations out on Clint, but the guy's standing _right there,_ looking like that and Bucky can't decide if he wants to punch him or kiss him. "Are you sure the beacon's working? We couldn't have been knocked that far off course. Why haven't we been rescued?"

Clint backs away just a bit as Bucky's voice gets louder and a little more manic.

"Um, it's working," Clint says, hands going up in front of him. "I checked earlier. I swear!"

It's only then that Bucky realizes he's still holding his gun. At least it's pointing at the ground. "Fuck!" He engages the safety and shoves the gun back into its holster on his thigh as he turns away. He needs to cool down and get ahold of himself.

"Sorry, Barton. Just… I need some space."

"Oh."

Clint's voice has gone small and that drags Bucky's eyes back to him.

"I'm sorry, Barnes. I just. Uh. Well, you-- And I thought if--"

He's stammering like an idiot and blushing -- or is he sunburned? -- and there's the endearing goofball that Bucky's totally gone on. "Take a breath, Barton, and maybe start again," Bucky orders.

"You're not going to deck me?"

"No," Bucky replies and his mind is circling around how he got this all so wrong.

"Good. Well, that's, yeah, that's good."

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at Clint. "You were trying to say something?" he prompts when Clint just stands there looking more and more lost.

He ducks his head and says, "I just thought if I did everything right here, you'd notice me." The words are so fast it takes Bucky a moment to parse their meaning. 

"We're like the only two people on the island, Barton," he says. "How could I not notice you?"

"Not like that," he answers. When he looks up, his jaw is set. "I've been trying to get you to pay attention to me for weeks!"

"Huh."

"That's all you have to say?" Clint's voice goes a bit shrill and he's getting red in the face.

Bucky cocks his head, considers what Clint's saying. "So, to be clear, you've been showing off?" he asks. "To impress me?"

Clint's eyes widen and he gives a tiny nod.

Bucky chuckles to himself and gives Clint his best James Barnes smirk as he stalks close. "Well, doll, you just shoulda asked. I noticed you the first time Steve introduced us."

Clint swallows, his eyes widening as he tracks Bucky's every move. "Y-you did?" he asks, chin tilted slightly up to meet Bucky's gaze.

Bucky takes his right index finger and traces the new freckles on Clint's collarbone. "Hell, yeah, I did, sweetheart," he says, voice gone low and rough from the way Clint shivers under his touch. "How could I not with you being so damned pretty and very bendy," he murmurs. "Made me realize my dick still worked."

Clint snorts and Bucky glances up to see him lick his lips. "Hey, Barnes?"

"Hmmm?"

"You think I could kiss you?" Clint asks. He's got his bottom lip caught on his teeth and he's holding his breath.

Bucky shakes his head. "Nah," he says, then leans in. "Think I'm gonna kiss you first." He whispers the last against Clint's lips.

Clint makes a soft whimper and then dives into the kiss. He wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls him flush against his bare skin. That makes Bucky moan and nip at Clint's lower lip. When he gasps, Bucky dives in, licking, tasting, and teasing. One strong hand comes up and tugs at Bucky's hair, deftly pulling it out of the haphazard ponytail he'd been wearing since they crashed. Bucky can't remember a kiss ever being quite like this, it's a full body onslaught with Clint taking over and shoving his back up against a palm tree. He presses close from knees to shoulders. Bucky's dick works just fine, but he's still never gotten this hard this fast. He reaches around Clint, gripping his ass cheeks, one in each palm and hikes him up so that their clothed cocks rub together.

"Whoa! My eyes!" is shouted from above them. "Sam, cover Cap's eyes! We don't want to break him!"

Clint groans, but doesn't let Bucky put him down. "Fuck off, Stark!" he growls but grins up at Bucky and gives him a wink. "You have the worst timing!"

"What'd you say, Stark?" Sam asks, pretending to misunderstand, but Bucky knows damned good and well that Starks' comms are flawless.

"Buck?" Steve asks as he comes into view behind Sam.

Bucky groans. "I'm fine, Stevie, now can you all fuck off for half an hour?"

Steve's eyes widen, then he gives Bucky a thumb's up and an exaggerated grin. "Right. I think we found your camp earlier," he says. "And was that fresh coconut?"

Clint's snorts. "Knock yourself out, Cap."

Tony's still hovering above them. Clint flips him off. "You, too, Stark. Fuck the hell off, we'll join you at camp in half an hour."

"Whatever, Katniss. But Romanoff is gonna kick your ass for making her wait." He starts upward, then drops down again and Clint groans.

"What is it?"

"She was worried about you and we could tell," Tony explains and then he's gone. Bucky's heart leaps into his throat. As bad as the jungle is, he's far more afraid of the Black Widow.

Clint's eyes go wide and he does step back, making Bucky release him. "Um, we're going to have to continue this later."

Bucky nods. "Good idea."

Clint takes Bucky's metal hand and kisses the knuckles. "But we will continue this back at the compound."

"Absolutely, doll. I've been imagining you out of those shorts and I want to see if the reality measures up."

"What?"

Bucky's laughing as they make it back to the others. The jungle might have been his worst nightmare, but he wouldn't trade the experience for the world. He's got Clint beside him because of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about survival on a desert island and I'm 100% sure crashing a Quinjet anywhere wouldn't end up being this easy, but they do it all the time in the comics so why not?
> 
> Title is from "Wherever is your heart" by Brandi. All due to my own personal title whisperer, [hitlikehammers.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitlikehammers/pseuds/hitlikehammers)


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